- STR: 42 (+16)
- DEX: 10 (+4)
- INT: 14 (+2)
- Size: Colossal (-10)
- Type: Space Transport
- Initiative: 1
- Senses: 13
- Sensors: 20
SPEED: Fly 12 sq. (max velocity 800 km/hr), Fly 2 sq. (starship scale)
Fighting Space: 12×12 (1 sq. starship)
Crew: 2 Passengers: 8, 6 Prisoners
Cargo: 25 tons
Consumables: 5 months
Hyperdrive: x2, x12 backup
- Laser Cannons (Gunner)
Attack: Damage: (4d10+4)2
- Holding Cells: A holding cell has reinforced walls (DR 10, 150 hit points), an advanced lock (DC 25 Mechanics check to bypass from the outside, DC 30 to bypass from the inside), and cameras and sensors that allow it to be monitored from remote stations (+5 equipment bonus on Perception checks made into the cell from the security post). A small port allows food and similar items to be passed safely into the cell without exposing the jailor, and it can be used to make ranged weapon attacks into the cell (such as when it’s necessary to stun a troublesome prisoner). Cells also include an armored ring (DR 10, 50 hit points) to which binders and similar restraints can be attached.
The galaxy had red-tape in droves, and Sal was sick of it. Things were simple on Nar Shaada. Not so out here in the “real” galaxy where folks lived by laws and rules. As he looked the Bothan dockmaster over, he had to chuckle at his own memories of wearing a uniform … a badge …
“You think this is funny?,” the dockmaster said.
“Smuggling is a very serious crime.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“I know about you Corellian types,” the Bothan said, fur twitching. “You pick up these old junkers thinking officials will just look them over. Ship like this, though – full of little nooks and crannies and I know all of ’em.” The Bothan marched up the ramp and began his visual inspection.
Sal supressed a sigh. Everyone knew the nooks and crannies of a ’1300. Sheesh. “Tell me about the configuration you have here.”
“Well,” Sal said, “It’s a standard YT-1300p config – flipped the main hold to a lounge and the aft bays to passenger compartments. The extra water, solid waste storage and life support adds weight to an empty bird, but she flies better than a 13c when fully loaded.”
“I know that!” The Bothan was about to trip a switch on what he thought was the loading bay door controls.
“Then you also know that you’re about to jettison said solid waste into your cargo bay.”
The Bothan stopped. Sal led him into the hallway, secretly closing the dummy “solid waste disposal” panel with his elbow.
“The cockpit we passed on the way up – I ramped up the pitch, installed a vector-wall, and swapped out the accelerometer but other than that, it’s all stock. This forward room would typically be three double beds but I like my space, so it’s just the one bunk. The sword is purely decorative, I can assure you. Over there’s the refresher and the circuitry bay, and the back passenger compartment which I left untouched. Watch your step.”
The Bothan nearly tripped over some exposed wires running from the circuitry bay to the engineering room. There, an impossibly-thin droid was working.
“This is engineering, and H1RO’s personal quarters. I have him doing some basic diagnostic work on the, ah, stabilizers.” Sal said a silent prayer that the Bothan didn’t know a stabilizer balance sequence from what H1Ro was obviously doing – overtaxing the power relay to boost the maneuvering jets. It wasn’t illegal, per se; but occasionally, one needed to be able to pull a bootleggers turn quicker than a TIE fighter for … professional reasons. “Say hello to the inspector, H1RO.”
“Hello,” he said politely.
“Why does that droid have a blaster in a hip holster?” The Bothan asked.
“Welding torch” Sal said.
“Flow-inducer” H1RO said at the same moment.
“Moving on…” Sal turned the Bothan towards the last door. It opened with a hiss revealing Transparasteel bars and an austere bunk room beyond. The bars slid apart and they stepped into the cell. “What is this?”
“This is where we keep prisoners.” The Bothan turned in shock. Sal was holding up his ICPK “Bounty Hunter” license. “All perfectly legal, sir.”
The Bothan looked over the license, then hurriedly went around the ship a few more times, banging on walls and waving his scanner over every surface. Eventually, he had to admit the ship was clean. He printed off a flimsy copy of their docking pass and left the bay with the indistinct feeling he’d been duped.
Sal watched him go from the bottom of the ramp, replacing the concealed carbine he kept in the hidden recess where the ramp met the interior floor. “We agreed on welding torch,” Sal said as he heard H1RO coming down the ramp.
“Yeah, but a flow-inducer actually kind-of resembles a blaster.” A compartment opened on the droid’s side and a small parcel fell into Sal’s waiting hand. He unrolled the package to reveal three memory cores, a vial of aqualish blood and part of a bank account statement. Hard to believe this is worth the trouble, Sal thought.
“Let’s finish the job,” Sal said. And move on to the next world, he added silently as he looked at his ship. Things might not be simpler, but they certainly were more interesting now that he was No Man’s Servant.